Museworthy, Claudia’s blog about artists and models of history and her own life as an art model, has been going for five years today. It was Museworthy that inspired me to start blogging, and Claudia was my mentor, showing me how to use the WordPress software and how to get started. The quality and variety of what she shares there, and her consistency and perserverance in publishing (often two to three posts a week!) remain an inspiration to my own writing and posting, as much as Claudia as model has been an inspiration for me and many other artists. It’s become a tradition for Claudia’s blogaversary posts to include a photo of her taken by me, so follow the link to check out this year’s effort.
2012/09/24
Museworthy’s Fifth
2012/09/21
Statuesque
Figure drawing sessions are back on at Figureworks after the late summer hiatus. Randall Harris books great models in his home-like gallery space. Each session has eighteen poses ranging from two minutes to twenty minutes, an ideal range for me to try out different approaches in my ongoing core practice of studying nature, energy, and expression through the human body and the act of seeing and drawing. Our models for the first two sessions of the season were Colin and Susannah, both of them tall and strong, with long limbs and elegantly curved bones and muscles. All drawings in this post are from those two sessions at Figureworks Gallery.
I think of drawing as closer to sculpture than to painting. The eyes are the organs of touch at a distance. With light and shadow I feel the form, and my markings are the strikes of the chisel and the strokes of the rasp, carving a form out of the block of paper.
The sculptor’s model and work are on rotating platforms, to check from all sides. Of course I don’t do that in a 20-minute pose, but the light striking the subject from different angles has different colors and qualities. By differentiating these various lights and by observing how they fall across the contours of the figure, the form emerges in apparent depth.
A ten minute pose is just enough time to “rough in” the form of the body, its major curves and its relation to the airy space surrounding it.
The major curves are cut with swoops and swerves, the subtler undulations suggested with scrubbing scribbles.
Form is energy, and it is the movement of the drawing hand that captures this energy. There is a pattern of energy that causes matter to grow into the intricate form of a living body, to animate it with tides of breath and streams of blood and electricity of sense and impulse.
The body contains the fire of creation, the dust of stars, the salt of the ocean, and all the memories of life’s evolution.
A living being is a bubble that rises from the sea of potentiality, floats free for a moment or a century, then falls to merge again into that sea.
Earth is our cradle and our crucible. We grow out of it, walk upon it, and return into it. We make our Eden or our Hell of it.
The body is a tube, and what passes through that tube is transformed into animal life. The consciousness is also a tube, and what passes through it becomes a person.
The mind goes on these philosophical journeys while drawing a ten or twenty-minute pose. Through the human body I contemplate the nobility and the fragility of being human.
These are just sketches on paper, ephemera of an artist’s practice, but while making them I think of them as towering monuments, heroic statues to tell the beings of the future: we were here, this we saw, this we made.
The drawings on gray paper are 18″ x 24″. The ones on white paper are from an 11″ x 14″ sketchbook. Drawings are made with watercolor and gouache, aquarelle crayons, or a combination of those media. All images in this post made September, 2012, in open figure drawing sessions at Figureworks Gallery, Brooklyn, New York.
2012/08/16
Visages
To draw a face by observation, I start out by touching. Of course I can’t literally touch, so I watch how the light strikes the prominences, falls into the hollows, and flows across the flats, furrows, and swells. My brush strokes the paper just as though it is stroking the model’s face, following in the path of the light.
This post is a series of my recent portrait drawings. The first three are relatively quick sketches, twenty minutes of rough freehand rendering using this tactile approach with mostly white gouache and black watercolor.
If you are old enough, you may remember the old Polaroid instant photos, the kind that would eject from the camera in a state of blankness, and then, as you watched, an indistinct image would appear and gradually sharpen, like the world coming back into the vision of someone awakening from a swoon. This kind of drawing emerges that way, clarifying in stages. If I keep on going over and over it with the darks and the lights, eventually it starts looking rather continuous-toned and realistic. But twenty minutes is just a short enough time that the tactile quality still shows nicely in the strokes.
The next three drawings are nude portraits from the long pose sessions I run at Spring Studio. These are done with a combination of aquarelle crayons, watercolor and gouache, and the total drawing time for each is about two hours, or six times as long as the sketches above.
Even with the longer drawing time, I don’t want the images to become too smooth. In the past, I used to make them smoother, but I think they’re more interesting when you can see the gesture in them, so when they get to a certain level of pictorial development, I switch from blending the gradients to sharpening the geometry and indicating subtle perceptions using bold gestures.
In my nude portraits, I’m trying to integrate the face and the body. Culturally, the portrait and the figure are separate artistic genres, but I like to merge them, to show the face as part of the body. An actor will tell you that a character resides as much in the body, in energy and movement and posture, as it does in the face. An artist’s model projects his essence with all of it together.
Touching the model is not allowed, and usually in these open sessions there is not much opportunity to talk with the model either. But I want my drawing to convey to the viewer that they could touch this person in the drawing, that they have an idea of her personality and her way of being in the world, that she could speak to them and they could come to know her. I have to try to communicate all that just by looking and drawing. It needs a wide open kind of looking, and the maximum possible energy channeled into the drawing.
I will conclude with drawings I made of the one-year-old fraternal twin daughters of some close friends of mine. I prefer to draw portraits directly from life, and nearly all the drawings I have published in this blog are done that way, but it’s hard to get babies to sit still enough for anything other than a very rough sketch, so I did refer to photographs in making these. I wanted to try to capture the distinctive personalities and looks of these twin sisters. Babies haven’t had time to develop some of the hard features and cultivated attitudes that individualize adults, but they are all born different, and their particularity is absolutely authentic.
All the drawings in this post are done on gray Canson paper, mostly with a combination of aquarelle crayons, watercolor, and white gouache. They are 18″ x 24″ (41 x 61 cm) except for the baby portraits, which are 12″ x 18″ (30.5 x 41 cm).
2012/07/27
Cut to the Quick
As the 2012 Olympic Games get underway in London, we’ll have an opportunity to observe the elegance and power of the human body in action, diverse kinds of bodies honed through intensive training for different skills. Here I salute the occasion with my own studies of the body from figure drawing sessions at Figureworks Gallery in Brooklyn and Spring Studio in Manhattan. All of these sketches are made with watercolor and brush during sequences of two-minute poses. The illustrations are presented in random order, and the interspersed text is not specifically related to the adjacent images, but generally to the whole collection.
A sequence of quick poses is a kind of dance, as the model moves from one position to another to reveal the anatomical structure and the expressive range of the body. The artist has only a moment to capture whatever can be captured. I am fascinated by the variety and dynamism of quick poses – the models can do all sorts of things that would be impossible or painful to hold for even a five or ten minute pose. Knowing that the timer is relentlessly counting down, I enter into a mode of hyperfocused flow, my eyes and my brush both in constant and coordinated motion. The only way to get anything interesting is to work with swift efficiency.
Here I’m posting complete sequences, so you’ll see some awkward passages as well as some lovely bits of brushwork that reveal something true of the model’s aliveness or individuality. Every real brushstroke is a rough approximation of the ideal brushstroke into which the visual cortex is translating the forms it perceives. I’ve been practicing this for many years, so my approximations are pretty good when my focus is on. It’s more important that the lines be confident and expressive than that they be accurate. If I were to stop to measure or take a moment to step back and look critically at the sketch, I would hardly be able to get anything at all in two minutes. I have to go unhesitatingly with the flow, and trust the flow.
I look for curves – the curve of the spine, of the hip, of the neck, of the knee, and make each curve a stroke of the brush. I try to emphasize what makes each individual body unique, not to genericize the anatomy. That uniqueness is in the curves. The curve of one person’s hip is quite different from that of another’s hip. I always look for the physical idiosyncracies.
I generally omit or radically simplify faces, hair, hands and feet. Those parts of the body are detail traps, best saved for more leisurely studies. But they are also often key to the particular expression of a pose or model, so I try to get some indication of their angles. The direction of a gaze, the splay or curl of the fingers, the twist of an instep can be the detail that makes the pose come alive in the sketch. For me, angles and curves are practically the whole of quick drawing.
Quick poses are a special exchange of energy between model and artist. A set of quick poses gives the model an opportunity to perform, to stretch out, to test their limits, to offer contrasts of feeling or form. As the artist, I cannot let such a gift go unappreciated. When a model is really giving the energy, drawing is like dancing with a fantastically graceful or dynamic partner – complete abandon is the only appropriate response.
A kind of time dilation can occur during quick poses. From my own experience as a model, I can tell you that holding a challenging pose can make two minutes seem like an eon. For the artist, a pose that’s complicated to draw can make two minutes feel like a few seconds.
Observing angles is a quick way to see how one thing relates to another thing in space. When I’m doing quick sketches, I’m making lots of lines that I don’t draw. In my mind, I make lines between points to see how they relate in space. I check the angle going from nipple to nose, or from fold of elbow to bulge of heel, or from where the arm meets the leg to the pubic ridge. When all of those parts are in the right angular relations to each other in space, proportions will be a fair approximation of the reality.
Sometimes it’s easier to see curves and shapes and angles by looking at the negative spaces, the places where the body is not, and how those places relate to each other. Or the angles of the body may become clearer by seeing them in relation to straight lines such as a wall or surface, the pole the model holds or the wall on which he leans.
I’ve pored over anatomy books, assimilating as much structural understanding of the body as I can, but I depict only details I can see. The knowledge helps me to grasp these features of the body, but I can’t get lost in an analytical breakdown of the body. I try to get as many anatomical details into the sketches as I can, because these details individualize the body.
Curves and angles, negative spaces, spatial relationships, anatomical details, flow and rhythm – it’s a lot to see and a lot to try to depict in two minutes. The only way to do it is to merge perceiving and drawing into a unified process. This is achieved by trying and trying and refining through hundreds of hours of practice.
When you watch an Olympic gymnast, you are seeing someone who has developed a perfect unity of perception and action through relentless practice. Drawing is more subjective, but the learning process is similar. All the details have to come together, to become one act.
All of the original sketches in this post are made with watercolor and a brush in 18″ x 24″ sketchbooks. Multiple pages have been stacked vertically in the illustrations so a whole series of quick poses appear in a single image, as though the drawings were made on a scroll. Action sketches actually made on scrolls, drawn by me more than a decade ago, can be seen in this post. I have also written previously about the similarities between life drawing practice and athletic practice, here.
2012/07/10
You Are Invited
“Life Drawing”, a group exhibition at Brooklyn’s Figureworks gallery celebrating twelve years of weekly figure drawing sessions at the gallery continues through July 29. I have been a regular at Figureworks’ sessions since their inception, and two drawings I made there are in the show. I posted an announcement of the show before it opened, but I’m posting again because the gallery is having a mid-show reception this Friday, so you have a second chance to meet the artists and check out the beautiful home-like space where we draw and where proprietor Randall Harris features a strong and diverse selection of figurative art. Here are the details from Figureworks’ official ann0uncement of this week’s reception:
| Come to Williamsburg this Friday the 13thOur current exhibition has gained great attention with many drawings sold since the opening reception in June. New drawings have replaced the sold ones so a mid-show reception is in order. Our reception is being held to coincide with Williamsburg Every 2nd Friday, a monthly gallery crawl when galleries stay open until 9pm with special events. Life Drawing June 8 – July 29, 2012 at FIGUREWORKS fine art of the human form 168 North 6th St. (1 block from Bedford Avenue “L” train) hours: Saturday and Sunday from 1-6PM
Since 2000, Figureworks has hosted a weekly life drawing session every Saturday morning before the gallery opens. Over the years we have showcased the drawings from those artists who have faithfully supported these sessions. This year, taking advantage of this longevity, we have created a timeline using artist’s earlier works with their current endeavors. It is exciting to see this history. Some artists have retained their signature style with more confidence while others have chosen to explore new techniques and various mediums. The diversity of this group is remarkable, especially in medium, which includes Ink, magic marker, oil pastel, watercolor, graphite, and colored pencil. It is worth noting that these exquisite figure studies were executed from 2 minute to 20 minute poses. They are fresh, spontaneous, and many times unfinished. Foremost, all of these drawings are explorations into form and the study of human anatomy, many never intended to be formally shown. Figureworks is located at 168 N. 6th St., Williamsburg, Brooklyn, NY 11211, one block from the Bedford Avenue “L” train. The gallery is open to the public Friday, Saturday, and Sunday from 1-6 PM and is dedicated to exhibiting contemporary and 20th century fine art of the human form. |





































